I had a nightmare last night. I firmly believe that nightmares happen when you go to bed stressed or anxious. Your biochemistry dictates the nature of our dreams I’ve had enough to be stressed and anxious about, work, stupid stuff outside of work; usually I sleep well, not last night. Apparently, it helps to write about these things which is why I’m doing it. So, if you don’t want to read a dream journal, scroll on past.
I’m standing on a corner in a rather desolate neighborhood. Leaves are blowing, grass is brown and unkempt, there are broken-down chain-link fences. I am standing waiting for J. In the dream about 4 hours pass. Then I’m in a house. There I see J. I tell her that I’ve been waiting for hours for her. She says she’s been with some guy. I say, “you’d rather be with some guy rather than me” (for some reason “some guy” phrase is what stuck most in my mind when I woke up). She starts crying and says she has to. Then we’re walking through the streets and we’re holding hands and she says, “remember when we always used to hold hands in the beginning?” and then I wake up.
I woke up. It was 4:30am. And I just laid there. Killing myself. Then I remembered that my dog was no longer in this world, and I just stared up at the ceiling. You see that’s how it is with sadness and loss. You don’t think about it all the time, but it sneaks up on you and when it catches you it knocks you down and sits on your chest.
Nightmares as an adult are not really nightmares. They are just “bad dreams”, and they remind you. And they linger. There is no mother who comes to console you that those monsters don’t exist. Because there are no monsters. Just reminders.